An Umbrella not a Sword
by Sophia Banks
Summary: Sophia talks to Mycroft about the day he saved her life with only his Umbrella, and they talk about sentiment, his father, and umbrella fighting. (Changed to fit with the new episodes The Empty Hearse and His last Vow)


Sophia waited silently for her mentor to finish eating breakfast, her fingers tapping some unknown rhythm on the table.  
She really didn't want to interrupt him right at that moment.

1: Because he was eating and she knew he didn't like being interrupted when doing so

2: Asking her mentor questions was harder than you'd think; he had a stare that could melt ice!

Finally he was finished and throwing his dishes into the sink (literally) that was when she spoke up, "My?"  
"Mm?" he grunted, he was never a morning person. Sophia continued unmoved by his lack of words, "I have been thinking about the day you saved me, the first time I mean!" she said.  
Mycroft turned to face her with a slightly confused expression, "And?" he frowned at her. Sophia gave a soft sigh, "Let me finish," she protested, "And I was just wondering about your Umbrella, why do you carry it around?"

The eldest Holmes brother sat himself back down at the kitchen table and tented his fingers, "It keeps away the rain," he smiled darkly at her. Sophia ignored the darkness and gave a soft laugh, "Besides that," she said.  
Mycroft sat silently for a few moments, "It creates an image."  
Sophia nodded, though still slightly confused, "Do you usually sword fight with it?"

The legendary day when Mycroft beat up three men single handedly with his umbrella being his only weapon was not one she had forgotten, it was the first day she had dropped all hate towards him.

"When one is being attacked by one's younger brother with a real sword, and one only has an umbrella in his hand, one learns how to fight with the umbrella."  
Sophia nodded, restraining another touch of laughter which had threatened to come up at the thought of perhaps a Teenaged Mycroft trying to fight off his younger brother with an Umbrella.  
"That does not mean that I use it as a weapon often," he objected, "It is an Umbrella not a sword," he said it as though he was trying to deter her from ever trying it.

Sophia nodded sullenly, her thoughts racing back to that day once again-

_"You saved my life!"  
"That was the general idea," the man said wincing slightly as he placed weight on his injured leg.  
"I thought that…" tears formed in her eyes, was she really doing this in front of the man she had despised for so long? The man that she thought of as a cruel puppet master, and she had called a pompous jerk?  
"I suppose you suspected something else of me?"_

Sophia looked at the Umbrella which forever sat leaning on his leg when he was seated, or hung from his arm when he was standing, and every so often protected him from the rain.  
It was just an Umbrella, but it held a past, it held his image, it saved her life.

"Where did you get it?" she pointed a pale finger at the item hanging off his arm. Mycroft raised an eyebrow, "Why the sudden interest?" he asked, though without waiting for an answer he spoke again, "It was a gift," he said plainly.  
Sophia tapped once again at the table and once again he frowned at her, she stopped.  
"From Sherlock?"  
"Sherlock has not once given me a present," he replied, tapping his finger tips against the tabletop perhaps mocking her earlier action, "It was from my father."

_"How can you fight like that?" she asked, feeling lost for breath.  
"Unimportant, what is important is travelling to an area where I can utilize my phone and call for backup," he replied.  
Sophia nodded, "Can you walk?"  
He looked slightly affronted for a moment before he took a tentative step and immediately grabbed a tree for support, "It shall be a long and arduous but I can," he said through somewhat gritted teeth.  
Sophia bit her bottom lip, "Can I help you?"_

Sophia felt as though this was one of those extremely rare moments where she could get Mycroft to open up to her, a year and a half ago she had been able to gain knowledge about his mother from him, and now perhaps she could learn about his father.  
"Why did he give you an Umbrella?" she asked, hiding her true intentions behind the question. Mycroft leaned backwards in his chair, giving her an appraising stare, "He believed that I was going to be jealous of my younger brother, he asked me what I would like for a present," he said simply.  
"Fine then, why did _you_ pick it?" she continued.  
He suddenly was rubbing at his temples like the very conversation was as exasperating as talking to Sherlock. "Because I was an impressionable child, and my father would always carry one around so I decided to do the same."

Sophia restrained an "awww" instead she gave him a thoughtful look, "He sounds like a nice person," she sighed.  
"He is I suppose, though terribly lacking in intelligence," he gave a sardonic smirk, Sophia shifted uncomfortably under his sharp gaze.  
"So your father is normal? No deductive skills or anything?"  
"No."  
"Cool…"

_She stepped over to him and allowed him to put his hand on her shoulder for support, she made a small surprised sound at the weight the slim man provided, she had never helped anyone like this and was slightly annoyed that she was so weak.  
"You do not need to help me," he offered politely, "I have had my share of pain, I can take more."  
Sophia felt warmth spread from her heart, so now he was willing to walk all the way on an injured leg just to save her some discomfort?!  
Where was the man that had told her to stay away from a poisoned Sherlock, and the man who called her an arrogant child?  
"No, I'm fine!"_

"I never properly thanked you for saving my life," Sophia said thoughtfully.  
Mycroft looked at her with interest, perhaps slightly confused as to why they had gone from the subject of his father to the subject of him saving her life so quickly. "I believe that over the years you have given me enough thanks just by being here," his jaw muscles tightened at the emotion, he gave an uncomfortable clearing of his throat before he stood up, "I believe we have spent too long at breakfast, perhaps we should reconvene at my office where you shall learn about watching CCTV footage."

"I'd like that," Sophia laughed, "Don't forget your Umbrella!"

**Sophia at this point is probably sixteen or so.  
I decided to go halfway with everyone's theories about Mycroft's Umbrella, basically I mushed it all together to make this ;)**

**-Please review**


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